


It's not a terrible life

by sepherim_ml



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepherim_ml/pseuds/sepherim_ml
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is annoyed about Dean's inability to take a break from all the drama in his life. He decides to give him a Trickster intervention and he brings him back in Dean Smith's shoes. It begins as a joke, but when he finds himself stuck in that alternate reality, the unexpected happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not a terrible life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for debriel_mini Round#1 on LJ. Go to deadflowers's [Art post](http://deadflowers5.livejournal.com/108631.html#cutid1). Thanks to runriggers for the beta-ing.

**NOW**   
  
This is so damn unfair and Gabriel hates it.   
  
He lived millions of eons as Archangel, watching with curiosity as the human race popped out from Daddy’s hands, he went rogue millennia ago, taking part of Odin’s table as the god Loki, and then he lived among humans as the Trickster. Gabriel passed an eternity on Earth, playing pranks, until he crossed his path with the Winchester brothers. He lived millions of eons, but nothing was comparable with the human emotions he is experimenting right now.   
  
Gabriel looks down at the sleeping form of man who is laying right beside him and his hazel eyes soften a little. Dean’s face is half pressed against the pillow, a low snoring coming from his parted lips, his expression peaceful as a child, with no worries to cloud his sleep.   
  
A swirl of emotions rises from his heart, so damn intense that his chest is barely able to contain it.   
  
This is going to end badly.   
  
Dean shifts in his sleep, making little noises. His arm stretches towards the other side of the bed, involuntary searching for something. Or someone.   
  
Gabriel chuckles softly, sad and pleased at the same time. This is going to end  _so damn_  bad.   
  
He slides under the sheets, trying not to wake up Dean as he presses himself against the human’s side. Dean doesn’t wake up, but he gladly wiggles closer, between Gabriel’s arms.   
  
Gabriel let out a happy sigh and closes his eyes, listening Dean’s breaths.   
  
It is so unfair that, there, of all places, with Dean Winchester in his arms, Gabriel finds his paradise, even when he lived in the very true Heaven and the sweet valleys of Valhalla.   
  
There, on Earth, with a Dean who doesn’t remember a thing about being a Winchester.   
  
  
_So damn bad._   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
**THEN**   
  
  
"Hey boys!"   
  
Dean groans and he moves away from the laptop where Sam and he were trying to locate the newest vampire nest. Sam doesn't do anything other than look at Gabriel briefly, with his characteristic frown on his face, and then he returns to typing, clearly uninterested.   
  
Dean paces the floor, shaking his head. "Gabriel, you don't get it."   
  
"Get what?"   
  
Dean points a finger at him. "You're one step away for being wiped off the face of Earth!"   
  
Gabriel simply arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. Then he points at his face, waving a hand. "Hellooooooooo? Archangel here! What's your problem, Dean-o? Have you got a twist in your panties?"   
  
"You son of a bitch, I swear - "   
  
"Why are you always here?" Sam cuts Dean off, without even tearing his eyes away from his laptop. He seems genuinely curious, though, and Gabriel doesn't understand what the problem is. "Apart from making Dean angry, of course."   
  
"You are Castiel's favorite pets," Gabriel replies easily. "I want to play with you too.”   
  
Dean glances at Sam, his eyebrows risen, like he is asking silently how is it possible to have to deal with someone  _like him_  (which is totally uncalled for, according to Gabriel). Again, Sam doesn’t bother to give to either of them a minimum of attention, but his face transfigures in an expression of disgust nonetheless.   
  
“What’s your problem? Do you have some other exciting things to do? A hot date to go? You hardly have any company, apart from your whiny brother, my stoic brother, and your grumpy daddy.” Gabriel opens his arms. “I’m the best you can get, Dean-o. Why are you complaining?”   
  
“Are you crazy?” Dean snaps and even Sam looks up at his older brother warily. “So, seriously, are you fucking crazy?”   
  
Gabriel almost feels sorry for Dean. That damn human has his head so tightly wrapped in the problems of the world, he really thinks that he has no better use than being thrown against walls and sliced by claws all day long  _just because_ . Dean really needs to organize his priorities better.   
  
“You have a death wish,” Dean continues with his useless threats. Gabriel forces himself not to smack that damn idiot in the head, just to try if his problem is psychological or he is just being annoying.   
  
"When is the last time you yahoos hit bars?"   
  
“Holy oil, Gabriel,” Dean answers instead with a harsh voice. “Holy oil and your blade stuck in your ass.”   
  
“You wish being in my ass.”   
  
Dean opens his mouth and closes it without saying a word, taken aback. Sam straightens in his chair, widens his eyes, and suffocates a laugh, looking incredibly amused.   
  
“I’m going to kill you.”   
  
Gabriel rolls his eyes and stops listening at Dean’s blahblahblah. He resists snapping his fingers and stealing away Dean's voice, giving himself some quietness. The thing with Dean Winchester is that he can easily be the most aggravating man on Earth from the very first moment he opens his mouth. He is so fucking boring right now, and Gabriel is sick and tired of teasing him, since Dean doesn’t collaborate.   
  
Gabriel would like to ask when was the last time Dean went in a bar, hooked up with someone, went on a bender and had some kinky sex in the backseat of his precious car, but he can probably figure out the answer.   
  
"Have you any leads about hunts, daddy's last visit, or apocalypse? Otherwise, feel free to zap elsewhere!"   
  
Gabriel brings his hands to his chest. "Ouch, Dean-o, that hurt," he approaches Dean. He looks attentively at the other man, his green eyes, so full of hurt and disillusion. Gabriel doesn’t understand why, but he wants to take all that pain away, see again the cocky grin of the young Dean. Unfortunately, Gabriel cannot snap his fingers and make it disappear; he can just look at Dean, his bright soul, his scarred human body, and try to make him crack a smile.   
  
"Listen, you need a break. Flash news: no apocalypse, no Lucifer's tantrums, no end of the world. It's playground time, Dean! Don't you hear the bell? You idiots won, now you celebrate! Booze, women, sex... FUN!"   
  
"Flash news: the apocalypse is over but demons walk on Earth and mess with people! There is no time for breaks, and you maybe can't understand because all you care is playing pranks and hiding in witness protection, but people need us! They need us," he points to himself and Sam. "To save them. There is no room for a rest right now!"   
  
"Fine!" Gabriel feels the urge to shake Dean so hard for knocking some good sense in him. That stupid human is so fucking dense! Why everything has to involve apocalypses or hunts? Sometimes Dean really needs to chill out and have some non-commitment fun; instead, Dean doesn’t want to get some rest, even if he clearly needs it. "You stupid huntholic idiot! But you'll regret it!"   
  
"Oh! Really?! Will you trap us in another of your twisted TV-shows? You are lame!"   
  
Gabriel grits his teeth angrily. Lame? He is a genius! Then he smirks. "You are in biiiiig trouble, Dean. Just wait and see."   
  
  
*   
  
  
There is a law called ‘retaliation’ that Gabriel finds very amusing: it is punishment for the souls in Hell and it comes from an old human book. According to this law, every soul locked in Hell is subject to an endless punishment determined by the sin they have done in life. A fit punishment.   
  
When Gabriel began thinking what kind of prank he can involve Dean Winchester in, that law popped in his mind immediately.   
  
Dean is a hunter. He is a bulky hunter who wants nothing else except to save the world repeatedly, with a hero complex that he doesn’t even know about. For him, everything revolves around hunts and Sam, he isn’t capable of judging his own value and understanding how much he has put aside in favor of letting Sam take every good thing in life. That is not fair, and now, more than ever, after all Dean has been through, he  _must_  take a breath and enjoy the little things.   
  
Gabriel doesn’t know why he is so inclined to let them have some fun, but he blames it on his brand new boring life.   
  
Thanks to Daddy, in fact, Gabriel came back to life the same day Castiel did, but, unlike Cas, Gabriel returned to life in Heaven, not on Earth. He thought that after all the mess Lucifer caused; Gabriel, Castiel and Raphael could take the lead upstairs and avoid any civil war among angels. Poor Daddy, he didn't get a thing. Or maybe, like always, he didn’t care that his celestial sons will start a civil war.   
  
Raphael did not intend to recognize Castiel as an archangel, especially since Castiel decided to be the sheriff of Heaven and try to change things - blame it on Dean Winchester! -. Gabriel votes for Castiel because: 1) He likes him more, 2) Raphael is ruining any chance Gabriel can have to leave Castiel in command and come back on Earth, where, under the witness protection, Gabriel could return to his Trickster-lifestyle.   
  
The only way to sneak out on Earth and have some fun is when Gabriel "checks" on those Winchester boys. It is fun, and it is particularly hilarious when he harasses Dean.   
  
When Gabriel saw Dean for the first time, he thought that they were alike, or at least similar: Dean has that grin on his face, all smug and cocky. His eyes carried a hidden pain, though, even when he was in his best mood. The second time he met him, Dean has changed and his soul was destined to rot in Hell because he loved his brother too much, and nothing counted more than Sammy did. At their third encounter, Dean was bitter, hopeless, and disappointed. He was driven only by his love for Sammy and his stubbornness, but his faith in his brother had its first cracks. However, right there, when Gabriel was standing in a burning ring of fire, Dean looked at him with hopelessness and disappointment, and Gabriel actually felt like the worst scum in the universe. That was just a look given by someone who Gabriel is willing to sacrifice in order to have his older brother Michael back. At their fourth encounter, Gabriel died. The hardest part is admitting that Gabriel wouldn’t have done anything if it weren’t for Dean Winchester.   
  
Dean Winchester is the most annoying human on Earth, but Gabriel has to admit that he has  _something_ . It is something that makes Gabriel ask why he is so stubborn and determined to live in the hard way. Dean Winchester is a fascinating creature, yeah, and he can perfectly understand why, of all people, Castiel decides to follow.   
  
Gabriel did that too, and he definitely isn't a newbie like Cassie.   
  
So, in some twisted way, Dean Winchester is a pain in the ass but also a fascinating human. Okay. Then why did Dean want to screw up his life without any second thoughts, when he was a person for whom angels changed sides.   
  
Gabriel looks in front of him where the Winchester brothers are discussing strategy before they entered an abandoned warehouse, guns in hand. He is invisible, so neither Dean nor Sam spots him. Gabriel waits for a few seconds, arms folded and a grin on his face, he waits for the right moment, then, he snaps his finger.   
  
Therefore, here is the deal: Gabriel is going to teleport Dean into a dimension where, by the law of retaliation, he is going to experience his life in reverse. Where everything is upside down, where Dean Winchester is no more.   
  
Dean is going back to Dean Smith's shoes once again.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Since, this is supposed to be fun – mostly for Gabriel -, the archangel couldn’t lose the chance to have the perfect spot to look at Zachariah’s unique creation.   
  
Gabriel borrows his brother’s scenario for a reason: not because he is lame, like Dean unwisely said, but because he can add and remove things. For now, Gabriel is just an observer, watching a completely reshaped Dean Winchester.   
  
For this reason, Gabriel is sitting, still invisible, on the desk of the main reception, dangling legs over the counter while he is stuffing his mouth full of marshmallows.   
  
He stares at the elevator, waiting impatiently for the main show, while a rush of people walk to their office.   
  
Then, here he is.   
  
Gabriel straightens up, swallowing the last piece of candy, trying not to die for laughing too much.   
  
The mighty Dean Winchester, the cocky hunter driven by his personal quest for saving the entire human population, the stubborn son of bitch who lived his whole life in dirty motels and in his precious classic car, is coming out of the elevator as another person. Moreover, Gabriel, a few meters away, is really having a hard time not to choke to death.   
  
Dean Smith is dressed with an expensive tailored suit; a blue marine is the ocean shirt, ironed to perfection, and a red tie. He is carrying his briefcase in one hand, while with the other he is typing into his blackberry.   
  
Gabriel starts again to eat his marshmallows, grinning like a loon.   
  
That is going to be so much fun.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Dean Smith is boring.   
  
Gabriel stalks him for the first few days, spying his moves, laughing at Dean’s expenses, mocking him for too polished shoes, his too perfect shirts, his too impeccable suit. It was fun spying on Dean when he tries to fix his hair or when he puts a lotion on his face before going to bed. It was fun when Dean watches CNN in his flat screen or when he drives to work every day in his Prius.   
  
Then, Dean Smith starts becoming boring.   
  
Gabriel loses count of how many times Dean picks up his blackberry. When he isn’t busy in making calls, he is receiving them, when he isn’t texting he is checking his emails. When he isn’t playing with his phone, he is working through statistics or presentations on his computer, when he is not at work, he is working from home.   
  
As Dean Winchester has a thing about hunts, Dean Smith cannot think about anything other than his damn work.   
  
Gabriel loses interest in looking at Dean as he eats. Dean Smith is a fanatic of salads, soybeans, rice milk, fruit shakes and he counts his calories methodically. He eats sushi, he drinks smoothies, and, on Fridays, he allows himself to have a glass of wine.   
  
When Gabriel eavesdrops a conversation between Dean and his best buddy Logan about their plan for the weekend – two hours playing golf. Golf. Jeez. -, he decides that he has enough.   
  
Dean Smith needs some spice in his life.   
  
  
*   
  
  
“Hey, there!”   
  
Dean looks up, moving his attention to his blackberry to Gabriel. His right hand stills as he inserts the key in the lock of his door, and all his body stops. A frown appears on his face, even if he hasn’t an unfriendly expression, he is clearly not pleased with the interruption.   
  
Gabriel leaves his place in the doorway and he approaches Dean. “I’m Gabriel, your new neighbor. I moved in this afternoon.”   
  
Dean has to put his cell phone away in favor of stretching his hand formally. “Dean.”   
  
Gabriel squeezes his hand, and he almost surprises him discovering that Dean’s palm is smooth and soft, not showing any sign of past hard work. He shouldn’t be surprised, but, for the hundredth time in those few days, Gabriel is actually pissed off about the alternate universe, with that Dean so different from the Dean Gabriel has grown fond of.   
  
This was supposed to be fun, instead it’s boring and all wrong. Then, again, Dean does something to remind Gabriel that he is  _indeed_  Dean Winchester.   
  
“Can I have my hand back, man?” Dean asks, giving him an odd look, seizing him up as if he is undecided if it is best to catalogue Gabriel into the ‘creepy-stalker’ or in the ‘pervert-but-harmless’ category. He is definitely skeptical and suspicious, two things very Winchester, but Gabriel can see how his eyes are clear from his usual bitterness. That is a step forward, even if it is almost useless to Gabriel.   
  
Gabriel surprises himself when he feels a pang of disappointment in releasing Dean’s hand. He lets his fingers brush against Dean’s knuckles a few seconds more than it is necessary.   
  
Dean takes that opportunity to step back, putting some distance between himself and Gabriel. He shifts his bag from his shoulder, pursuing his lips, tempted to say something.   
  
“So,” Gabriel claps his hands, them together. “Now we can skip the boring stuff, and you can buy the first round. We are going to have so much fun,” Gabriel adds, winking at Dean.   
  
Dean raises his eyebrows, and then he looks critically Gabriel from head to toe. “Sorry, dude, we are not in the same club.”   
  
Gabriel frowns. “I wasn’t implying –”   
  
“I have to work,” Dean cuts him off. As he opens the door, his blackberry starts vibrating in his pocket and Dean fumbles to pick up the call as soon as possible. “I have to take this.”   
  
Before Gabriel can say anything, Dean already dismisses him and closes the door in his face.   
  
“You’ve gotta to be kidding me.”   
  
Gabriel stomps to his fake apartment, sulking. His own joke isn’t funny at all. It was a bad idea picking Zachariah’s setting, it would be better if Gabriel has done everything homemade.   
  
  
*   
  
  
The day after, Gabriel catches him in the morning. Dean has just taken out his keys to lock the door, somehow balancing in his hands a thermos, his damn phone and a pile of additional papers with statistics all at the same time.   
  
When he asks him again to go out, Dean says that he cannot take a night off from work, due to the new project he is involved into. This is frustrating, since Gabriel put him in that fake project.   
  
Plan A – having some fun at Dean’s expenses – wasn’t successful, Plan B – play a character in Dean Smith’s scenario to stop him being a frigid mummy – was disastrous, so, yeah, Plan C is the only alternative left.   
  
Plan C is much more straightforward than the first two and there aren’t any probabilities of failure. Gabriel just snaps his fingers and everything goes as it is supposed to.   
  
“Oh, I don’t think so, Dean-o.”   
  
He grins mischievously, but his satisfied smile disappears from his face a second after, because, when he snaps his fingers, nothing happens.   
  
A snap of his fingers and Gabriel is supposed to be surrounded by a harem of busty strippers. Instead, Gabriel is still there, in a desert corridor, with Dean Smith and his stupid suspenders.   
  
Gabriel tries to snap his fingers again, and this time he focuses in blending the reality according to his imagination. Again, no changes.   
  
“What the hell are you doing?”   
  
Gabriel gasps and glares at his fingers. Then, a lightning bolt strikes in his mind. Oh, for all the virgins in Heaven! This is some kind of a cosmic joke! It cannot be possible!   
  
Gabriel tries to zap elsewhere, but when he looks up, Dean still looks at him, as he is a hopeless basket case.   
  
“Fucking hell,” Gabriel whispers, shaking his head, disbelieving. His powers as archangel are gone; he cannot even trick or twist reality.   
  
Dean blinks a few times. “Listen, buddy, I’m late for work. If you want advice: a good psychologist can help you.”   
  
“Oh, shut up, fancy panties!” Gabriel snaps his fingers again, trying to make Dean fall in some other embarrassing scenario. Again, Dean stays right in front of him, annoyed, and Gabriel hates him a little bit more.   
  
He is trapped in an alternate dimension,  _without_  his powers. Fucking hell.   
  
Gabriel doesn’t miss the cruel irony in that: as he said to Dean Winchester a few months ago, the actors have to  _play_  their roles. Only this time, instead of shaping the screenplay at his will, Gabriel is an actor too.   
  
“Seriously, you need some professional help.”   
  
Dammit.   
  
He is trapped in a universe where Dean Winchester is still a pain in the ass, even in Dean’s Smith polished shoes.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Gabriel snaps his fingers for the hundredth time without success. Again.   
  
He tried repeatedly to trick reality, in useless attempts to change the scenario and turn back into the original one. Nothing.   
  
That is so frustrating.   
  
Gabriel called Castiel, knowing that his “Dean-radar” would beep incessantly whenever his precious charge is in danger. This time, his damn little brother doesn’t answer.   
  
Okay, so Gabriel is definitely stuck in that universe, as a human, with no power whatsoever. Peachy.   
  
Since Gabriel has nothing better to do, he decides to keep picking on Dean. Childish? Not so much. All of that is Dean’s fault. Nothing would have happened if Gabriel hasn’t decided to be charitable and giving to Winchester a possibility to  _not_  be yourself for once, and go with the flow (and okay, that is the perfect excuse for Gabriel to have some good laughs).   
  
Dean seems to have had enough of Gabriel, but he cannot really compete with the archangel’s stubbornness, no matter what. So, when Dean meets Gabriel for the hundredth time near his door, he ignores him, as he did always. He seems more and more distressed, though, as the workload becomes more and more massive, and he stops coming home every night.   
  
So, when Gabriel spots Dean stumbling in his apartment, eyes bloodshed for being too long in front of his computer and his shoulders slumped tiredly, he decides that is enough. Maybe not everything went as he planned, but Gabriel still has his chance to get Dean some ‘serious’ fun.   
  
“You’re going out with me,” Gabriel announces with determination. “You can’t refuse.”   
  
Dean raises his eyebrows, skeptical. “Watch me.”   
  
He tries to close his door, but Gabriel put a foot in the crack and he rests heavily against the doorway.   
  
“Look, you need a break. It doesn’t have to be more than once in a blue moon. Just, don’t think about work for a night, hang out and drink a beer or two,” Gabriel rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy the first round.”   
  
Dean folds his arms to his chest, evaluating the proposal, then, he lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. He is exhausted, Gabriel can see that, and he hates it. It is like the same, old movie, repeatedly.   
  
“Okay, lead the way.”   
  
  
*   
  
  
It is an odd view watching Dean neglecting the women, smiling unsurely and fiddling his light beer in his hands.   
  
This is not what Gabriel is aiming at, but at least Dean is not in his office or at home, but he is having some fun and some booze. If you can count ‘light beer’ as booze, that is.   
  
The bartender gives to Gabriel few shots and he brings them to his and Dean’s table.   
  
“Here we are.”   
  
Dean looks at the alcohol with suspicious eyes, clinging unconsciously at his beer. “Seriously?”   
  
Gabriel shrugs and divides equally the glasses between them. “It’s called having fun, Dean.”   
  
“Tomorrow you’ll have a hangover of the size of Texas, dude.”   
  
“That’s the good thing about drinking!” Gabriel states. “It’s just you and the alcohol. No other problems invited. But there will be boobs involved.”   
  
“What boobs?”   
  
“The ones you’ll be touching by the end of this night, Dean-o,” Gabriel winks at a woman at the other side of the room. The woman laughs with her friend.   
  
Dean just fidgets in his chair. He seems so fucking out of place, there, and Gabriel regrets his stupid idea: he wants Dean Winchester back, not his shallow self, he wants him in his usual shoes, snarky and cocky.   
  
“Unless you’re interested in touching some junk, instead,” Gabriel continues. “Alcohol can provide that as well.”   
  
Dean’s tips ears blushes pink, and he looks at his beer absently. “Boobs are okay.”   
  
Gabriel arches an eyebrow, and then he gets it. Oh fucking Odin! Dean Smith is gay and soooo deep in the closet!   
  
He pushes two shots over Dean. “Boobs or junks won’t matter after this round. Come on, Dean-o! I dare you!”   
  
That seems to be the only way to snap something out of Dean. He grabs the first glass, glares at it, and then he drinks it.   
  
“Ew.”   
  
Gabriel laughs, amused. The alcohol is burning in his belly, making him a little giddy. Ah, right, no angel mojo, just human body.   
  
He pushes another glass to Dean. “We are just starting.”   
  
  
*   
  
  
It doesn’t take long to have some ladies at their table, shaking their boobs against Dean and Gabriel’s faces, waiting for them to take the hint and move elsewhere.   
  
Gabriel has asked to a waiter to bring them an entire bottle of whisky, and between Dean, himself and the two smoking hot blondes, they have almost finished it.   
  
One of the two is sitting on Gabriel’s lap, her long legs brushing against the archangel’s calf. She has a bad breath, but she is definitely hot. Her friend is trying to have her way with Dean, and, by the look over Dean’s face, it seems that she is not so far away from her aim.   
  
Then, the blonde on Gabriel’s knees almost pukes her guts when she drinks another shot. She places a hand on her mouth and rushes to the bathroom, her friend following her, laughing and stumbling on her high heels all the way.   
  
“See? This is fun.”   
  
Dean looks at him, and his green eyes are sparkling, like the day Gabriel met him. Dean’s laugh is still bubbling on his lips, and Gabriel counts that as a victory: his cheeks are red from the alcohol and the hotness in the bar, making him seem so damn similar to his young self.   
  
“We touched boobs, too,” Gabriel adds, and the words come out without much sense. “But I’m not sure that I want to have sex with Miss Pukes-her-guts. Would you mind sharing your blonde?”   
  
“I’m not really into sharing,” Dean answers. Suddenly, he grabs his glass and stands up. He takes a few steps, just around the table, then he smirks, and he sits directly on Gabriel’s lap like this is the most normal thing in the world. “I’m not into boobs either.”   
  
As Dean sits on his lap, Gabriel freezes and for a moment, his brain actually clears enough to let him think how weird the situation is.   
  
That is just for a few seconds, then every remnant of his consciousness fades when Dean puts an arm around his neck, pressing his lips against Gabriel’s.   
  
Gabriel isn’t a person who refuses a quick fuck, and, as an angel, he isn’t skittish over the gender of his partners. So he doesn’t have any hesitation, he kisses Dean back, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and drawing him more closely.   
  
Dean’s mouth is so damn tempting, that Gabriel feels like he is losing himself a little bit. He has a flash of Dean’s plump lips around his cock, and Gabriel becomes painfully hard in a second.   
  
Dean chuckles softly against Gabriel’s lips. He pulls away and looks at him smugly, with a cocky smile playing on his lips. “Are you getting into the programme, Gabe?” He sits comfortably on Gabriel, pressing himself against Gabriel’s hardness, and the archangel moans both for the unexpected nickname and Dean’s gesture.   
  
“Oh, sure I am, gorgeous. Now get off my lap and hurry.”   
  
“Hurry where?” Dean teases.   
  
“Your apartment,” Gabriel exhales, capturing Dean’s lips one more time, napping his bottom lip with his teeth. “Straight away.”   
  
“I’m not used to hooking up with strangers.”   
  
“You should have thought that before teasing me.”   
  
Dean laughs loudly and gets off Gabriel. He takes out fifty bucks from his wallet and he leaves them on the table.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Gabriel doesn’t know how they arrived to Dean’s apartment.   
  
They called a cab and proceeded to make out for all the drive to their building. He had a vague remembrance of stumbling inside the hall, before being pushed in the elevator, with Dean attacking his lips again and sliding his hands under his shirt.   
  
They were so goddamn horny that they undressed themselves all the way through Dean’s bedroom, launching shirts and pushing away trousers with no ceremony whatsoever.   
  
Next time Gabriel remembered something clear, he is pushing himself inside Dean, with Dean moaning and writhing under him, sweaty and needy. He had Dean’s hands clasping his forearms, his moans a sweaty face and his legs open waiting for more.   
  
Gabriel remembered distinctly when he thrust in and out of Dean, and the smack of his balls against Dean’s ass, then their release, the sense of exhaustion and bliss that lulled him into sleep.   
  
  
*   
  
  
When Dean wakes up the day after, Gabriel expects a major breakdown, instead, Dean doesn’t fall apart, but that is probably because of his morning wood. Dean looks at Gabriel with sleepy eyes, his cheeks flushed, and Gabriel winks at him, sliding a hand under the covers, trailing the sensitive skin of Dean’s thigh and wrapping his hand around his dick.   
  
Dean’s moans fill the room right after, and Gabriel has problems in thinking about everything else that doesn’t concern Dean’s dick and his own dick.   
  
It was supposed to be a one night stand, but the three rounds in addition to the ones on Friday night aren’t uncalled for, at all.   
  
Gabriel tries not to think how addictive is Dean’s face twisted in pleasure or how his green eyes seem finally free from worry and pain. He tries not to consider that he is responsible for all those orgasms and his need to give them to Dean again and again, to be the one who can slam in Dean as if he belongs there.   
  
That is a scary thought, and Gabriel is more than happy to lose in it in the blissfulness of another orgasm.   
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
Monday morning comes and goes, then Tuesday and the rest of the week. Gabriel isn’t surprised at all, when he sees Dean returning to his boring old habits: waking up at 8.00am, going to work, bringing work home, having a healthy dinner by himself. It seems that everything falls into the normal routine, like having sex with Gabriel for the whole weekend was just a forgettable digression, a three days fling, good just for unloading some tension. Which is okay, for Gabriel, because Dean is nothing like a relationship: he was a good fuck, Gabriel had many orgasms, and he is not bored anymore.   
  
Still.   
  
There is something addictive in Dean, and now that he has touched and tasted him, Gabriel cannot have enough. He wonders if there is any side effect in this world, something that makes him  _feel_  like he needs to have Dean again and again, touch him and being the one who could make his eyes sparkle again.   
  
Gabriel did it. He made the mighty Dean Winchester smile again, but if he obtains that result just for three days, and the rest of the week is Mr.-Respectable-Pain-in-the-ass, it cannot really count as a big victory.   
  
“What the fuck are you doing here?”   
  
Gabriel smiles broadly, motioning to the six-pack of light beers in front of him. “I brought the booze.”   
  
Dean leaves the door half-open and puts his bag on the floor, eyeing at Gabriel with astonishment. “I mean, what are you doing in  _my apartment_ ?”   
  
Gabriel rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Are we really doing this? You already know that I’m not psychopathic.”   
  
“How can I know? You can be an axe-murderer during the rest of the week,” Dean answers. He is clearly not very happy with Gabriel, and his eyes are still full of distrust, but at least he closes the front door at his back.   
  
“Yeah, because during weekends I usually fuck my neighbors.”   
  
Dean flinches, and Gabriel remembers: Smith is still deep in the closet, and probably Gabriel is one of his first gay experiences. Not his first experience, unfortunately, because, hell, Dean knows exactly what to do and how to do it. It is still new, though, especially if Gabriel counts the fact that fucking a stranger is not exactly what Dean does normally. At this consideration, Gabriel feels a stab of anger, because, really, if he has fucked Dean Winchester it would be the last of their problems: the freak out should be concerning the ramifications of a one-night stand with an archangel would lead in the future.   
  
“Don’t worry, you’re the only hot shot in the building. I fuck just you, honey,” Gabriel adds with a smirk of satisfaction, trying to reassure him. He grabs a beer and he offers it to the other man. “Are you in or not?”   
  
Dean doesn’t respond with words, but he loosens his tie a little and sits down on the couch near Gabriel, grabbing the offered beer. Dean’s forehead is full of crinkles of worry, but as soon as he takes a sip, his face relaxes and he sinks more comfortably in the couch.   
  
Gabriel drinks his beer, eyeing Dean all the time, and leaving him the time to bring up the next topic.   
  
“So,” starts Dean. His eyes are closed, lips parted and he seems to enjoy the moment of pure relaxation. “What are you aiming for? Another quick fuck because it’s Friday?”   
  
Gabriel points at his chest. “Who? Me? Just because I brought you a pack of beer do I have an ulterior motive?”   
  
Dean cracks an eye open. “Who are you trying to fool?”   
  
Gabriel chuckles. “Well, it’s Friday. What people do on Fridays?” Before Dean could say anything, the archangel cuts him off. “Apart from work, which is what old and boring people like you usually do on Fridays, Dean-o.”   
  
“I’m not boring,” Dean straightens up.   
  
“Yes, you are, champ,” Gabriel nods in his direction.   
  
Dean snorts. “You are nine kinds of lame, Gabriel. You bought a whole pack of beer to get me drunk and fuck me. So don’t tell me I’m boring.”   
  
“Come on, I don’t need to –“   
  
Dean’s lips shut him up effectively. This time, he doesn’t simply kiss Gabriel passionately, trying to have his way with him. On the contrary, Dean teases Gabriel’s lips with his tongue, ignoring Gabriel when he parts his mouth to give him better access. He takes his damn time, kissing him lightly, exploring him. There is no alcohol involved, this time, so Dean isn’t driven by booze or his own horniness, instead he seems to be extremely careful, like he is expecting Gabriel to bolt and run.   
  
When Gabriel starts to feel  _it_ , he stops being impatient and follows Dean’s lead.   
  
_This is not a simple fuck._   
  
Gabriel isn’t a person who panics or a person driven by his emotions – hello? Still archangel! – but his brand new body with the whole feeling/touching human package makes him so damn receptive of everything, his skin actually tingles and his senses are in a mess, just because Dean is kissing him  _in that way_ .   
  
The human seems unsure, his lips are trembling, afraid of doing the wrong thing and screwing everything up. Dean is kissing him driven with something - A doubt, a desire, a hope – and Gabriel can fucking  _feel_  it.   
  
_This can be more than a simple fuck._   
  
Gabriel knows that he holds in his hands, in his future gestures, in his reaction, the result, and the answer to Dean’s silent request. He can do and say whatever he wants, and he can reject and accept what Dean is asking of him.   
  
In the whole eons of his existence, Gabriel the Archangel never experienced anything like this – so futile, so important – but now; he is reacting like a human, with his own emotions driving his actions.   
  
He cups Dean’s cheek gently, parting his lips and  _asking_  him to deepen the kiss. Asking. Like a human can do with his lover.   
  
Dean goes with that happily, tangling his fingers through Gabriel’s short hair and angling his neck to a better position. Gabriel’s arms go to encircling Dean tightly, inviting him to sit again on his lap.   
  
_Yes,_  he is saying.  _Yes, Dean_ .   
  
Gabriel doesn’t even care why he is saying yes. He forgets about being an outsider of that world, he forgets about being an archangel, he forgets that everything, in that world, is fake, a scenario borrowed from Zachariah. He thinks of Dean Winchester, his strength, his pain, his distrust, and he thinks of Dean Smith, his weaknesses and his boring life. He mingles them in one, and he proceeds to kiss the life out of him.   
  
Gabriel is perfectly happy.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Gabriel isn’t a  _wife_ . The problem is he is behaving like one.   
  
He doesn’t really have a choice, though. Dean, as always, works crazy hours and Gabriel doesn’t have a job yet. The strangest thing is that he actually starts to browse into newspapers to find one, just because he doesn’t like to be considered the one who has a vagina in their relationship.   
  
Relationship.   
  
Yeah, Gabriel started using that term, because there is no other way to describe when two guys fuck each other in every conceivable position with their stupid chick flick moments (yes, cuddling is definitely involved), or the fact that Gabriel is basically living in Dean’s apartment, sleeping in his bed, showering in his bathroom and eating all his groceries. He even starts to buy those groceries and that lead to countless arguments and infinite bickering where Dean Smith’s healthy lifestyle collides with Gabriel’s preferences in anything sweet and sugary.   
  
So, yeah. Relationship.   
  
“Have you finally learned how to cook, wife-y?” Dean leans over his shoulder, looking at the stove, just to find another take away ordered from the nearest Taco Bell. “Cheater.”   
  
Gabriel chuckles and leans his back into Dean’s chest. “You’re my only one, Dean-o, but call me wife-y again and you’ll see.”   
  
“You bought me dinner,” Dean says pensively, rustling into the different receptacles, looking for something his diet allows him to eat. “Well, kinda of.”   
  
“You’re the catcher.”   
  
Dean places a kiss a few centimeters under Gabriel’s ear, angling himself in a way to trail little kisses and bites along his neck to the line of his jaw while he whispers with husky voice. “I can be the pitcher, if you want.”   
  
Gabriel closes his eyes, trying not to jizz in his pants like a human teenager, just for Dean’s suggestion. “That could be nice.”   
  
Dean places another kiss against the skin of Gabriel’s neck, then he moves away, slapping Gabriel’s ass. “I don’t think you deserve it. You bought tacos another time, and I can’t –“   
  
Gabriel turns around, and then he rolls his eyes. “I know, Dean-o, your life is just about salads, sushi, and frozen yogurts.” He leans his back against the stove, and then he snorts. “You’re lucky that I like you, otherwise you’ll be eating green peas and soups every day. And you won’t get any orgasm.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Gabe, but, trust me, I can dig in pretty well without you,” Dean smirks smugly. That is in moments like this that the old Dean Winchester comes back, and Gabriel finds it fascinating. “Today a guy hit on me in the elevator at work.”   
  
Gabriel immediately loses his smile.   
  
“What? Are you jealous?” Dean teases without mercy. “Oww, Gabe, sorry to burst your bubble of confidence!”   
  
But Gabriel shakes his head, not believing it.  _That’s not possible_ , he repeats in head again and again, because, hell, when he borrowed Zachariah’s scenario, he only brought Dean there. Sam wasn’t in the picture.   
  
“What did he say?”   
  
“Who?”   
  
“The guy who hit on you. What did he say?”   
  
“He said something lame, about knowing me -” Dean replies and Gabriel’s world goes under his feet even more.   
  
How can it be possible?   
  
Dean Smith just met Sam Wesson, and Gabriel cannot understand  _why_ .   
  
“Gabe?”   
  
Dean looks at him interrogatively, asking without words what is wrong, and Gabriel feels awful, because, how is he supposed to admit that Sam Wesson is  _Dean’s_ ?   
  
Gabriel leans in quickly and kisses Dean, with fierce possessiveness, ignoring Dean’s yelp of surprise. Gabriel puts one hand on Dean’s cheek, the other on the back of his head as he holds him and pulls him closer.   
  
He kisses Dean with anger, like he is punishing him for being himself, for dragging the  _other world_  there, in their perfect reality.   
  
Dean blinks a few times, with glassy eyes. “Are you peeing around me, Gabriel?”   
  
“No,” answers Gabriel with low voice. “But wait until you wear my mark.”   
  
He thinks about an enochian sigil, craved in Dean’s skin like a tattoo, a reminder of his touch, nothing like the accidental burst of Castiel’s grace that marked Dean’s shoulder. This would be intentional and, if Dean accepts, consensual.   
  
Again, Gabriel is human. He cannot let Dean bear a sigil made of power, grace and essence. He can only give him a mark in his skin, in the human way.   
  
Gabriel places a kiss along Dean’s neck, starting to lap the sensitive skin with his tongue lazily, taking his time. Dean swears under his breath as Gabriel bites him hardly and proceeds to leave a sign made of teeth, tongue and saliva that can say ‘I’m taken’ to anybody else.   
  
“Gabriel…”   
  
_Forget Sam. Focus on me._   
  
Gabriel hates it, he hates that Dean has to bear his mark just in his body and not in his soul too. He hates it. As he hates Dean Smith, because all Gabriel wants is to keep him safe and sound in his arms, without letting him slip away to the cruel world that he is destined to know.   
  
  
*   
  
  
**NOW**   
  
  
Gabriel caresses Dean’s naked shoulder, keeping him in his arms, and remembering how Dean came home that night, with his hair all ruffled up, deer eyes, and his shirt soaked up with blood.   
  
Gabriel’s blood froze in his vein and he understands that his own perfect domesticy is been compromised with no way back.   
  
Gabriel rushed to Dean’s side, worrying like a damn girl, full of anger and frustration.   
  
In his current body, he cannot smite any one, he cannot protect Dean effectively, and he cannot let him forget about his reckless hunt with his newly acquired buddy Wesson. So, Gabriel just helped Dean change his clothes, he comforted him and looked, helpless, as Dean’s eyes went back to distrust.   
  
Dean, on the other side, took the entire situation too lightly. He confided with Gabriel what Sam and he did, but he found in Gabriel no comfort. Gabriel couldn’t give that to him. He could just suggest letting everything go, to forget what happened, to take a vacation together, and he fucked him, trying to make him understand that he didn’t want to leave him for his old life. They are okay like that.   
  
Gabriel groans in frustration, holding Dean tight, listening to his heartbeat, caressing his skin, and looking at his peaceful face.   
  
That is for the first time that Gabriel feels one-step away from losing his personal paradise and that makes him realize that he is head over heels for that stupid human. He cannot lose him.   
  
This is so damn unfair.   
  
  
*   
  
  
The next day, Gabriel decides to visit Dean at work. He has a plan in mind: surprise him and keep him away from Sam.   
  
When he arrives a few steps away from Dean’s office, a rustling noise followed by a shout makes him run.   
  
“No,” Gabriel chokes out. “No.”   
  
Dean has a long cut along his chest and Sam is at his side, hands dirty with blood, freaking out. When Sam looks up, Gabriel can see in his eyes a blind terror and a desperation that no Wesson could have. He is looking at him with Sam Winchester’s eyes.   
  
Gabriel falls on his knees, taking Dean’s face in his hands. “Nononono.”   
  
Dean’s eyes are closed, but his right hand closes around Gabriel’s.   
  
"Dude, we need to call an ambulance!”, Sam says frantically. “Hold on, Dean, we will help you!”   
  
“Castiel…” Gabriel whispers. His voice cracks and he finds himself wordless. He opens his mouth again, but this time the despair fills his voice. “CAS? CASTIEL!”   
  
“Gabriel.”   
  
Gabriel looks up and Castiel is there, a few steps away, a deep frown on his face. He is watching the scene carefully, from Sam’s astounded expression to Dean’s spilled blood.   
  
“What are you doing here? You've been missing for days,” Castiel says, his blue eyes are full of disapproval.   
  
“Whatever, Cassie. Now, fix everything up,” Gabriel snaps. He turns his attention to Dean again, feeling like crap and too fucking guilty. “Please.”   
  
There is a flutter of wings, then Dean’s blood disappears from Gabriel’s hands and the archangel finds himself on the ground, alone.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Castiel bans him from visiting the Winchester brothers. Well, Sam and Dean physically attacked him the last time he showed up at Bobby’s, and Gabriel doesn’t need Castiel ordering him anything: Dean’s angry look was more than enough to discourage him.   
  
He follows them, invisible, watching as Dean returns back to his former self, bitter as always. He doesn’t smile, but he seems distracted, lost in his own thoughts, and Gabriel would love to massage his neck and make him feel comfortable, like he did to Smith. He didn’t interfere, as much as he wants to, but he starts to feel a weight on his chest.   
  
He promised himself to give Dean some time to think before approaching him again, but when he sees Dean head to a bar he decides that Dean had enough space (and Gabriel knows how easy is Dean in a bar full of women).   
  
He finds him completely smashed, at his thirtieth glass of whiskey. Alone.   
  
"We call night, Dean-o."   
  
" _We_  don't call anything,” Dean bickers with disgust, without even tearing his eyes from the shot. “ _I_  stay until I'm too drunk to not remember who you are."   
  
"You're such a spaz, Winchester."   
  
"Fuck you, Gabriel."   
  
Gabriel sits in the stool near Dean. He watches as Dean downs another whiskey and pulls a face, blinking a few times under the effect of too much alcohol. He looks at his features, searching for any resemblances to Smith’s behavior or any sign of forgiveness. Nothing.   
  
“Look, I was –” Gabriel stops, he sighs, and admits. “I’m sorry. I totally fucked up. Happy, now?”   
  
“Ecstatic.” Another shot. “Fucking Mary Sun’ne,” Dean slurs.   
  
“I was trying to help your sorry ass.”   
  
“Of c’rse you were.”   
  
“I’m serious, Dean,” he actually abandons his usual smug expression, he grabs Dean’s arm, forcing him not to raise his glass and focus his attention on him. “I was trying to help you: you were so buried under your crap that I decided to bring you into another reality where you could be free from your paranoia. Where you could take a forced leave from your fucked-up life.”   
  
“And you b’t me in Zac’s setting?” Dean barks a laugh, but he doesn’t move away from Gabriel’s grip. “You’re as original as a Billy Zane’s movie.”   
  
“Yeah, I admit that I lacked originality,” he admits. “But I was really trying to help you, to make you laugh and forget about your boring hunts.”   
  
“You made  _you_  laugh. Good job.”   
  
“I didn’t,” Gabriel lies. Not after the first week, anyway. “I was –”   
  
“You are a dick. Like your dick brothers.”   
  
“Dean, if you let me explain –”   
  
Dean shakes his head. "Dude, cut it out, I don't want to hear a thing."   
  
“You have to, you self sanctimonious prick!” Gabriel loses his patience. He makes Dean turn to him and he looks at his eyes, trying to let him see how sincere he is. “I didn’t have any powers there. I was a human like you, and nonetheless I – I was involved in that world. I screwed up? Yes, but I didn’t take into account that I would lose my powers and get used to that world, to be with you. I didn’t fake anything, Dean. I swear, I didn’t.”   
  
Dean remains silent, his muscles tensed, like he is ready to get up and leave him behind. He doesn’t. He stays there, still as a statue, with his eyes evaluating Gabriel’s face, savoring his words.   
  
Maybe, like Gabriel (or like Gabriel hopes), Dean is remembering their fucks, their kisses, their blissful domesticity. Maybe he is recalling how he felt at ease with Gabriel, how happy could he be, just sitting on the couch making out with his boyfriend, or how peaceful it could be sleeping in Gabriel’s arms.   
  
Dean gets down from the stool, shying away from Gabriel’s touch when the archangel tries to stop him. He stumbles a little, drunk, as he takes a few steps away from the counter.   
  
Gabriel couldn’t watch him walking away, he gets off from his stool and calls him back. The first thing that comes out from his mouth is the simple truth, that Gabriel, like a human, blurts it out without thinking.   
  
“Dean, I loved you.”   
  
Dean stills and his posture stiffens.   
  
“I could love you here,” Gabriel continues. “I  _want_  to love you here.”   
  
“He wasn’t  _me_ .” Dean looks away, but Gabriel understands now how many doubts Dean has: the human isn’t just angry for Gabriel’s prank, he is also angry with himself, because he let his defenses down as Dean Smith, he let Gabriel come closer and settle in his life.   
  
“It’s always been you,” Gabriel replies easily. This is the goddamn true. “Always.”   
  
Dean turns around, looking Gabriel, waiting for him to say anything else, and the archangel’s lips quirk when he repeats. “I’m sorry, Dean. I really am, but you deserve being happy.”  _You can be happy again, with me._   
  
Unexpectedly, Dean smiles, a little, private smile, but it reaches his eyes, and Gabriel watches, fascinated, the change in Dean’s face. He smiles back, waiting for Dean to say something, anything, to make Gabriel hope that he can have his private paradise again.   
  
“You owe me,” Dean points a finger at him. “You owe me big.”   
  
Gabriel lets out a gasp of relief. “Name it, I’ll do anything. I have my powers now.”   
  
“I’ll hold you to that.”   
  
“I mean it, Dean. Name it.”   
  
Dean’s eyes soften, and his cheeks flush pink. Gabriel doesn’t need him to say anything else, he reaches for him and kisses him.   
  
_Make me happy again, Gabriel._   
  
Gabriel happily obliges.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
Across the room, in the corner, Chuck smiles.   
  
Gabriel has always been his most stubborn son, the one who prefers to learn lessons smashing his face against the reality, instead to have someone to point him into the right direction.   
  
Cutting Gabriel off from his powers and trapping him in that world was extreme, but Chuck – his father – did it for his own good.   
  
After all, the law of retaliation works in both way, and Gabriel turns out to be the one pranked, in the end. However, he won, just as Dean did.


End file.
